


Bad Advice

by halfsweet



Series: Parenthood AU [3]
Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Family, Light Angst, M/M, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 16:27:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13438710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfsweet/pseuds/halfsweet
Summary: Brendon never knew how much a parent's actions or words can affect a child.





	Bad Advice

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the bad title
> 
> (unedited)

It has always been charming to watch how David is always _Mama Bear_ this and _Mama Bear_ that and constantly latching to Patrick at every possible second. Both his family and Patrick’s siblings think the same, and so do their mutual friends, but lately, a stranger’s comment makes him think twice about David’s behaviour.

He’s out buying groceries with David while Patrick’s teaching at Andy’s store. David is sitting in the cart and pointing to items and naming them while he’s going through the list that Patrick wrote.

(He tries not to smile when he sees _lemons_ in the middle of the list, but he fails.)

“Daddy.” David whines, tugging at his sleeves. “I want that.”

He glances to where David is pointing, and he raises his eyebrows. “Cookies? But we have a lot of home.”

“But _Daddyyyyyyy_.” David whines again, drawling out the word. “I wanna.”

He reaches out for the cookies that David pointed earlier and inspects the price. If he buys the cookies, then he has to delete one item off the list. Their budget for the month is pretty tight, especially when David fell ill a couple of weeks ago. The medical bills aren’t as cheap as they used to be.

Instead of placing it inside the cart, he puts it back on the shelf, which earns him a disappointed cry from David. “Daddy, I wanna.”

“Sorry, Little Bear.” He smiles at the sulky expression on David’s face. “Maybe next time. Let’s finish the ones we have at home first, okay?”

David begins to make blubbering noises, waving his small fist around and attracting a few other people around them. “Daddy, I wanna! I wanna!”

People have begun to whisper and shooting glances at them, and he lowers his head, embarrassed, as he tries to calm his son down. “Okay, okay. Daddy will buy the cookies. Please stop crying.”

He grabs one pack and gives it to David, who immediately stops crying and lights up at the item in his small hand. “Cookies!”

“Is this your first time being a parent?”

He looks up from the list--he supposes he can cancel tomatoes off the list--and furrows his brows when an older woman with a filled cart stops by him. “Uh, yes. Why?”

The woman gives a side-eye glance in David’s direction, and he has half a mind to pull David behind him. Then, the woman turns to him again. “Take my advice. Don’t be so soft on your kids. They’re going to step on your head one day.”

He straightens his back, feeling defensive. Who does the woman think she is, giving him advice when he doesn’t need one? “He won’t.”

“That’s what I used to think.” The woman shrugs before she starts pushing the cart and walking away from him. “I have four kids, and now none of them hardly ever visits me anymore because I refused to give them money.”

Even though the woman is muttering the last part, he can still hear her words clearly, and he can’t help himself as he looks back to David sitting in the cart, blissfully hugging the cookies to his chest.

Has he been too soft on David?

-

When they return back to the apartment, David’s calling for Patrick cheerfully with the pack of cookies held tightly between his small fingers. He can’t help replaying the woman’s words over and over again in his head since their conversation at the store, and even when he’s already in bed with Patrick, ready to retire for the day, he can’t stop thinking about it.

He sighs and closes his eyes, about to sleep when there’s a few soft knocks on the door.

_“Mama Bear?”_

The mattress under him shifts, and he turns his head to see Patrick looking torn between wanting to ignore the knocks and getting up to open the door. Patrick flicks his gaze to him and bites his lip. “Should we open the door?”

_“Don’t be so soft on your kids.”_

“No.” He eventually says, but then the knockings get faster and louder.

_“Mama Bearrrrrrrrr. Open the doorrrrrrrr.”_

“Brendon.” Patrick moves to sit up, but he quickly pulls him back with a stern look.

“Don’t. If you open the door, he’s going to do the same thing every night.”

They stay quiet for a moment to check if there’s any sound coming from outside, and just when they’re both about to lie back down, a small sniffle is heard.

_“Mama Bearrrrr.”_

Before he can even blink, Patrick is already out of bed and opening the door, to which David lets out a happy cheer and launches himself into Patrick’s arms. “Mama Bear!”

Patrick laughs and hugs him close, peppering kisses all over his head. He lies back on the bed, feeling something red running through him. “Can’t believe you fell for his trick.”

“Don’t care.” Patrick idly replies him, too focused with the giggling toddler in his arms. They eventually get on bed, David lying between them. Patrick is making faces at David, and every time he tries to sleep, he’s awaken by David’s high-pitched squeal of laughter.

Annoyance begins to creep up on him, but he tries to bury the feeling and closes his eyes instead.

He can tell that from the quiet yawns Patrick’s been muffling, Patrick is sleepy as well. And every time Patrick closes his eyes, David’s hand would fly up to tug at his hair or poke his cheek. “Mama Bear, don’t go to sleep.”

“But Mama Bear’s tired.” Patrick sleepily replies, barely able to keep his eyes open at this point.

“I’m not.” David pokes at Patrick’s cheek again, repeatedly this time. “Mama Bear, don’t sleep yet.”

“Go to sleep, David.” He snaps, a tad irritated at the toddler's incessant whining for his Mama Bear to stay awake.

“Mama Bear.” David whimpers as he scoots closer to Patrick. “Daddy's yelling at me.”

“Brendon.” Patrick glares, now seemingly fully awake. “You don't have to raise your voice at him.”

Wait. _He's_ in the wrong?

He sits up on the bed, eyebrows knitted together in the middle in annoyance. “If I don't, he won't listen to us. He needs to learn how to follow orders.”

“He's _two_ .” Patrick narrows his eyes. “He doesn't need to be following _orders_ at this age.”

He opens his mouth to retort back, but a small whimper stops him. He looks down to see David crawling and trying to hide with Patrick as his shield. “I don't wanna sleep next to Daddy.”

Unbelievable.

“Hey, it's okay.” Patrick rubs his hand on David's back as David cries into his chest. “Mama Bear’s here.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Wow. See that? Trying to make me feel guilty for being a good dad.”

“He wasn't trying to do anything.” Patrick glares up at him as he pulls David closer. “What is up with you tonight? Why are you so angry?”

“ _Why_ am I angry?” He asks back, incredulous. His face is heating up, and it feels like he's about to explode. Is Patrick _too_ blind to see what their son is doing to him? “I’m angry because _you_ keep giving in to him, and that's why he's been so demanding! If he didn't get what he wanted, he'd come crying to you and you'd always, _always_ do whatever he says!”

“Well, I'm sorry I care about _our_ son too much!”

“Patrick…” He sighs. He didn't mean it like _that._ He cares about David too, but not to the point where he obeys _everything_ David tells him to.

“You know what? You can sleep by yourself tonight for all I care. I'm going to sleep in the guest room with David.” Patrick grumbles as he gets out of bed, carefully holding David to his chest and grabbing a pillow.

He runs his finger through his hair in frustration. This is not how his night is supposed to turn out. “Patrick--”

He winces at the sound when Patrick slams the door shut behind him, David's wails muffled through the door. Letting out a sigh, he lies back on the bed and stares at the ceiling.

He wasn't being too harsh on David, was he?

\--

The next morning is, thankfully, slightly better than last night. He spots Patrick in the kitchen, sipping on a mug of coffee as he’s scrolling through his phone. Then, he sees a plate of sandwiches on the island.

Does that mean Patrick’s not mad at him anymore?

He walks up to Patrick, and the other man lifts his head up, smiling. “Brendon. Coffee?”

He lets out a small sigh of relief. Good, Patrick’s not mad anymore. “Sure.”

When Patrick turns around to get him a cup of one, he tries to find a way to bring up what happened last night. After getting some sleep, he realizes how wrong he was-- he shouldn’t let some stranger teach him how to take care of his own kid. He can do it on his own, with Patrick. They can learn together, and even if he does need help, he can ask his parents.

And he’s certainly _not_ going to ask strangers.

“I’m sorry about last night.” He starts after he pulls out a bar stool for him to sit on. “You were right. David doesn’t need to be ordered around.”

Patrick tilts his head back, his forehead creasing in confusion as he turns around to place a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. “What made you think he needed that in the first place? You were kinda off the whole day yesterday too. Did something happen?”

“Sorta.” He nods, staring at the steam drifting from the coffee. “I was at the store yesterday with David, and he wanted cookies, so I bought him it. Then, there’s this woman who came over and told me I shouldn’t be so soft on him or he’ll take advantage of it.”

He slumps over the island, feeling idiotic when he thinks about it. Why did he take her advice in the first place? “I’m sorry I was being a dick.”

“Hey.” Patrick calls him, all quiet and gentle, and he lifts his head up, seeing a small smile and an understanding look on Patrick’s face. “People are going to give advice no matter what just because we’re new parents. I’ve had to hear it practically every day when the parents came to pick their children up after class.

“But that doesn’t mean all of them are useful. Let’s just have our own parenting style, okay?”

Warmth spreads in his chest at the look in Patrick’s eyes and the tone in his voice. How luckier can he get with having such a loving and understanding boyfriend?

He pulls Patrick towards him by the hand and plants a light kiss under his jaw, inhaling his fresh and coffee scent. When Patrick places a hand on his shoulder, all his worries just melt away at the touch.

“Where’s David?” He asks once he pulls back, now feeling much better and lighter than before.

“Living room.” Patrick nods his head in the direction as he returns to his own coffee. “Been playing with Batman since I got him to take a bath.”

He takes a bite out of the mini sandwiches before hopping down the stool to go to the living room, and he sees a small figure with a Batman plush in one hand and a Batman action figure in another.

“Little Bear!” He beams as he leans down to scoop David into his arms, but before he can give him kisses like he always does, David squirms in his arms, trying to get down.

“Little Bear?” He looks on, confused, as his son trots over to Patrick in the kitchen and hugs his legs. Patrick, who is also sporting the same confused look on his face, picks their son up anyway.

“Mama Bearrrrrrrr.” The toddler wraps his arms around Patrick’s neck. His grip must have been a little too tight, because Patrick is pulling away a little.

“Hey, Daddy wants a hug too.” He pouts at David, but the two year old doesn’t say anything.

“David, hey.” Patrick tries to pry David’s arms around him, but it seems to make David hold him even tighter instead. “Go give your Daddy a hug.”

“Want Mama Bear.” David mumbles, refusing to let go of Patrick.

He looks up at Patrick, both wondering what has gotten into their son, but they shrug it off. It’s not exactly unusual for David to act like this anyway.

-

It was normal on that morning, but when it keeps happening throughout the rest of the day and the next couple of days, he begins to feel like something’s up.

David is always clinging to Patrick whenever Patrick’s around. If Patrick doesn’t pick him up, then he would attach himself to Patrick’s leg and follow wherever Patrick goes. It’s cute at first, but he’s beginning to worry about how David’s been acting lately.

It’s almost as if David is ignoring him. As a matter of fact, David hasn’t even spoken to him.

His heart drops to his stomach as he gazes at his son who is engrossed in watching Elmo’s World on the television. Patrick’s taking a shower, so it’s just him and David in the living room. He figures he can use this opportunity to talk to David and ask him if there’s something wrong.

He sits down next to David, and he tries not to feel disheartened when David crawls away before standing up. “David, hey.”

He quickly holds the toddler before David can get away far, and the sinking feeling intensifies as David writhes in his hold. “David, did I do something wrong?”

David stops moving and looks left and right. “Where’s Mama Bear?”

“He’s in the shower.” He answers, then tries to steer their conversation back to the original topic. “David, seriously, did Papa Bear make you mad?”

“No.” David replies. He stares at his son for a while, wondering if it’s a _no, I’m not mad_ or if it’s one of his usual _nos_ to everything.

“You sure?”

This time, David nods, and he hesitantly drops his hands, watching as David runs his way to the direction of their bedroom, where Patrick currently is.

If David’s not mad at him, then why has he been ignoring him?

-

When it happens again the next day, he finally pulls Patrick to the side, to which Patrick looks at him in bewilderment. “What’s up?”

“Uh,” he fidgets, “can you, um, ask David if he’s mad at me?”

Patrick blinks. “I’m sure he’s not, Bren.”

“Can you please ask him anyway? He hasn’t been talking to me in days.”

That seems to get Patrick’s attention. “I can try, but--”

“Great!” He cuts Patrick off as he spins him around and pushes him to the direction of David’s room. “Now. Ask him now, please? That would be awesome.”

He stands behind the wall and watches as Patrick enters David’s room and sits down next to him. Patrick’s playing with David for a while, and David showing him all his toys, and it's only about two or three minutes later that Patrick finally talks.

“Little Bear, can Mama Bear ask you something?”

David looks at him, his eyes curious, and nods. Patrick gives him a quick glance before turning to David once again. “Are you mad at Daddy?”

“No.”

Just like that, David returns to his toys again, and the subject is quickly dropped. Patrick stands back up and walks towards him, and they look over where David is playing by himself.

“Well,” Patrick shrugs, “he said he’s not mad.”

If David’s not mad, then why does he feel like something is still wrong?

-

The next day sends his heart breaking like no other. The feeling is much worse than when he and Ryan broke up or when Patrick caught him and Ryan kissing. In fact, the feeling is much worse than the two situations _combined._

“Mama Bear really has to go. Your Uncle Andy needs me at the store.”

David still cries though, tugging at Patrick's pants and wailing and begging him to not go. He goes over to them and picks David up, but he only thrashes in his arms and screams even louder instead.

He looks at Patrick, half in confusion and half in sadness as he lets Patrick take David, who immediately quiets down and clings onto him. Usually David has no problem with Patrick leaving to go to Andy's store, but lately, he seems to always want to be with Patrick.

Or rather, David doesn't want to be left alone with him.

Was it something he did? Is David angry at him?

Did he accidentally break one of his toys?

“David…” He moves closer to comfort the still-crying toddler, but as soon as he touches his back, David starts screaming again.

“Hey, what's wrong?” Patrick hushes him, worried. “David, are you okay?”

“Don't leave!” David cries out into Patrick's shoulder. “Mama Bear, don't leave!”

Their son is still crying as they look at one another, Patrick full of confusion and him of dejection.

“I guess I'll take him to the store with me.” Patrick shoots him an apologetic look. “Can you get his bag?”

He's still staring at David, whose shoulders are still trembling, and his body feels heavy all of a sudden. What can be worse than your own son not wanting to be left alone with you?

“Brendon? You okay?”

Patrick's worried voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and he lets out a quiet _“yeah”_ before turning around to grab the bag.

What did he do that made his own son doesn't even want to be near him?

-

He can’t stand going another day without David speaking to him or without knowing the reason why David suddenly doesn’t want to be near him. His nights begin to get sleepless, and he has spent hours staring at the ceiling or watching David sleeping.

That’s the only time David doesn’t cry when he’s near him.

“Can you ask him again?” He pleads to Patrick one day, and Patrick must have known that something’s up because he doesn’t ask anything; he just nods and heads straight to David’s room without another word.

Like last time, he hides behind the wall and tries to hear their conversation.

“Little Bear, are you angry at Daddy?”

“No.” David replies as he moves the action figure in his hand, completely distracted in his imagination land.

Patrick exchanges glances with him, brows knitted before turning to David again. “You're sure?”

David nods, not making a sound.

“You know, you can talk to me if something's bothering you.”

Another nod.

He sighs from behind the wall. David said he's not angry at him, so why has he been acting distant with him all of a sudden?

“David.” Patrick starts again, and he strains his ears to hear what Patrick is saying. “Did something happen between you and Daddy?”

There is a brief silence in the room. David is still playing with his action figure, but then his head moves slowly in a nod.

He snaps his head up, heart thumping in his chest as he shares another look with Patrick.

“What happened?”

“Daddy's mad at me.” David quietly replies as he puts his action figure down. “He doesn't like me.”

Just like that, tears begin to make his way to his eyes. What can be more heartbreaking than your own son thinking that you don't like him?

“David…” Patrick pulls David up to put him in his lap. “What makes you think that? He loves you _so much._ ”

“He got mad when I wanted to sleep with you.” David turns in Patrick's arms, burying his face in his shirt. “And then he fighted with you.”

 _God._ Did that night affect David _this_ much?

“Little Bear.” Patrick hugs him, kissing his dark brown hair. “He wasn't mad at you. He just had a bad day.”

“He fighted with Mama Bear.”

“You don't have to worry about that, Little Bear.” Patrick soothes him, making gentle hushing sounds as he caresses the toddler's hair. “We're not fighting, okay? Papa Bear and Mama Bear won't fight anymore, I promise.”

His throat starts to constrict. Did David really think that? Did their small argument really have this big of an impact on David?

He catches Patrick's glance. Patrick is looking perplexed and sad, like he's thinking the same thing. Then, Patrick glances back down to a downcast David in his lap, holding him at an arm’s length.

“David, your Papa Bear isn't mad at you,” Patrick says, his voice soft and gentle as he coaxes David to look at him. “He's sad because he thinks you're mad at him.”

That seems to make David snap his head up in alarm. “I'm not! Mama Bear, I'm not mad at Daddy!”

“You should tell him that.” Patrick gives him a smile, but it quickly turns into a confused frown when David shouts a _“No!”_ as he throws himself into Patrick's arms.

 _“Ask him why.”_ He mouths to Patrick, to which Patrick nods.

“Why not?”

David shouts a _no_ again, muffled by Patrick's shirt. “What if Daddy's mad at me again? What if Daddy fighted with you again?”

Unable to handle all the guilt and sadness after hearing his son like that, he enters the room and kneels down next to Patrick, pulling David into his arms. “Daddy’s not mad at you, Little Bear. It's not your fault, okay? Daddy's sorry. Can you forgive me?”

A pair of small hands on his back make him hold David tighter. “Don’t be sad, Daddy.”

It's strange how a hug from a small person, who is barely able to reach all the way around him, can make him feel better and whole in under a second.

He swings David up, chuckling a little at his little squeal of happiness, and hugs him tighter. When he opens his eyes, a little wet from the tears earlier, he sees Patrick smiling softly at him, and he smiles back.

He knows he has a long way to go to learn the ropes of being a good father, and truthfully, he doesn't mind at all if he has to learn the lessons from a two year old.

**Author's Note:**

> okay but can we replace the word "fought" with "fighted" i mean,,listen at how cute it sounded
> 
> unrelated: i'm finally done with all my workload and my weekend is now officially free so ! hopefully i get to write more!


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